A/N: I'm very sorry for lack of updates. I'll do better! =) Oh, and I don't do poetry, so please be kind with the free verse poems. (but I hear anyone can write free verse).

ANDY

Day 1, 7:45 pm

I followed Kori to the coffee house near our hotel. I couldn't resist. I was so curious about where she went all the time and what she did. It crossed my mind that maybe she was on drugs. Maybe they helped her be more alert on her bike. She fit the type that would use them: loner, quiet, yet tough. I was ready for almost anything except the truth.

She entered and I went in after her. Inside it was dim lit only by the light that was on the small stage-like platform on the far side of the building. There was a person sitting on a stool. The funny thing was, she was reciting a detailed, emotional poem.

I kept my eye on Kori thinking, OK, where's the drug dealer? but she didn't meet anyone. In fact, she sat down on the couch and listened attentively.

I couldn't make sense of it. A hard-core motocross racer listening to poetry. And actually liking it. It didn't work. Didn't fit. Yet, here she was.

The girl ended her poem and the people clapped and cheered, but I was mostly only happy that it was over. To my further amazement, Kori then stood and went on stage. She sat down and took the mic.

"As most of you know," she began. "I'm practically obsessed with motorcycles." A few people cheered and she smiled. "I took 3rd today in the X Games!" This time the cheers were louder, but not necessarily fuller. I'm guessing that most of these people didn't know what the X Games was. She gave a short, small laugh. "Anyway, yesterday I wrote something for Miya." She cleared her throat and began dramatically.

"The great cry of my friend pierces my ears,

So much we've been through.

The pain, bitter tears.

I can't bear to see you acting this way…

It's tearing, scraping at my open, bleeding skin.

The horrible roar grows louder.

It thunders my heart.

Distress, agony… eating me alive.

It all started with only one cry.

Now, as it reaches it's pinnacle of fright-" She paused to build suspense.

"Now becomes a silenced cry."

Her poem earned her cheers of delight, and my own confusion. How was that related to motocross? Why did she bother mention the X Games at all?

Kori smiled and hopped down from the stage. She went over to the counter to order something. I went up there, too.

"Nice job," I said as I sat down next to her. She turned.

"Andy, right?" She didn't sound too pleased to see me.

"Yeah."

"What are you doing here? This is the last place I'd expect to find a free rider." She said "free rider" like we had some kind of disease.

"I could say the same about a racer," I returned. "And in answer to your question, I just kind of stumbled in. What about you?"

"Are you trying to trick me or what?"

"Of course I'm not trying to trick you," I replied. "Why would I?"

"You're surprised to see me here, you might as well admit it."

I smiled. "OK, I am. But what does that have to do with tricking you?"

"You want me to admit I'm not some big, tough girl that plays with the big boys. You want me to admit that I have a soft spot."

"I never said that. Kori, you rip."

"I'm not buying your compliment. For your information, I'd choose to be at this place over a track any day. All that excitement and anticipation… this place helps me unwind. Chill out."

"Good for you. Now… who's Miya?"

Kori laughed. I was glad that she did… it showed she wasn't mad at me anymore. Judging by the tones and things she said before then, I thought she hated me, but now this laugh helped relax me a little. "I'll give you a dollar if you can figure it out."

"No thanks, I'm just a stupid moron. I'd rather you tell me."

"Miya's my bike."

I coughed, more than shocked. "Really? You're kidding."

"No, really. If you tell anyone, you'll never be able to ride again, got it? We're talking permanent damage."

"OK! OK, I won't." She sipped her drink. I felt like I had to somehow make up for nearly laughing at her. "It's cool, though. I mean, tons of people name stuff. Like, Lucielle that one guy's guitar, and… um,"

"Andy?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

I laughed. "OK. So… the cry. In your poem. What was it?"

Kori stared at me. She looked prettier in the dim light. More mysterious. "You are a dumb moron! It isn't clear already? The cry was the engine. It stopped working because it burned out."

I laughed again. "All that sorrow over a bike?"

"Hey! She isn't just a bike, she's my bike!"

"She? What if it's a he?"

"You know, for a dumb moron you've got a pretty smart mouth."

"Hah! You've just proved my theory."

"What theory?"

"That girls always have to have the last laugh."

"That's not true."

"Yes it is!"

Kori stared at me for a minute, straight in my eyes. It kind of scared me, like maybe she was hoping for a kiss or something. So finally I decided to break the trance.

I looked down. "What?"

"You're nothing like I expected you to be."

"Oh?" I looked back up. "How'd you expect me to be?"

"Like the rest of those dumb riders. All of them, not just the free riders."

"And how are they? Or, we?"

"Stuck-up show-offs. Most of them are crazy on top of it. Totally nuts."

"That's not true. I know tons of sane riders."

Kori shook her head. Her voice was quiet when she spoke next, and almost sad somehow. "They're all the same." She looked back in my eyes, and I could of sworn I saw tears. "It was nice talking with you." She got up and left. I almost followed her, but she went into the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later she still hadn't come out, so I left.